


Life Without Parole

by Maliciouspixie5



Category: Twilight Series - All Media Types, Twilight Series - Stephenie Meyer
Genre: Gen, Girl Power, Graphic Description, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, Implied/Referenced Rape/Non-con, Prison, Psychological Torture, Revenge, Serial Killers, Torture
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-04-03
Updated: 2014-04-03
Packaged: 2018-01-18 01:08:45
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,283
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1409383
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Maliciouspixie5/pseuds/Maliciouspixie5
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Three women sit in jail swapping stories of murder.  Bella, murderer of her husband Dr. Edward Cullen and his lover.  Rosalie, for the murder of attorney Emmett McCarthy and the four men he defended in court for her rape.  Alice, convicted murderer of Texas Ranger Jasper Whitlock and countless others as yet to be found.   WARNING: RAPE, GORE, VIOLENCE!</p>
            </blockquote>





	Life Without Parole

**Author's Note:**

> I don’t own it and didn’t make a dime off it.
> 
>  
> 
> Nanstew did a wonderful beta job. I’ve had a blast swapping stories with her and comparing weather notes from opposite sides of our country. I love how FFN can bring people from all over the world together. I LOVE hearing from people so tell me what you think. 
> 
>  
> 
> See the AN at the bottom for what partially inspired this story. 
> 
>  
> 
> WARNING: RAPE, GORE, AND REALLY CREEPY CHARACTERS! Don’t read it if you can’t handle touchy subjects.

Exercise time, what a bloody joke. It’s so damn hot out here, the most you can do in the blazing sun is sit and bake. At this time of year the prison infirmary is neck and neck with victims of heat stroke and shanking. They aren’t going to spend any of the taxpayer dollars for sun umbrellas either. Oh how I miss my pool and long tall glasses of sweet tea dripping with condensation. There is movement in front of me and someone slides onto the opposite bench seat, I don’t bother to look up. 

 

“What’s your total?” I look up at the question. My new companion at the picnic table is a spiky haired waif with black hair. She doesn’t look like she could do much harm.

 

“What?” I ask because I really have no clue as to what she is talking about. But I haven’t been clear on a lot of things in the past couple of months. I’ve been here two days now and I guess this could be considered as making friends. From what I hear about this place you need your friends. So I suck it up and make friends with the petite girl. What harm could she do?

 

“Your body count toots.” She asked again with a wicked grin. “You’re here with us lifers so ergo, body count. Name it.”

 

“Oh, um, just two.” I say embarrassed. Yes, I’m a murderess. Why start with small crimes when you can start at the top. 

 

“Two’s good. My first was two.” I would get up and leave but here in Tutwiler Women’s Prison there isn’t any place to go. The guards make sure of that.

 

“Your first?” I ask, curiously.

 

“Shut up Alice, she could go carrying tales back to the guards.” A statuesque blond slides in beside the pixie and gives me a malicious look. “Everyone is trying to get time knocked off their sentences and don’t think this sweet thing here won’t use you to get a little off hers.”

 

I snort unlady like. “Blondie, I took the plea and admitted to everything I did. There isn’t any time coming off my sentence.”

 

Blondie arches a brow and looks down her nose at me. “Are you nuts, never admit to anything.”

 

“At the time it was glaringly obvious what I did. Things got a little crazy.” I recall the officer walking around my path of destruction and the sick look on his face at the time. The bedroom smelled like an abattoir. Blood and other body fluids mixing with shit as the bowels let go at the time of death. My clothes were covered with blood spatter, various kitchen knives on the bed beside me with my bloody hand prints on them. A dead woman propped in a chair across the room, and a dead man tied spread legged to a bed. I was guilty as hell. I grew up with my dad, who ironically happened to be a cop, drilling it into my head that if you did something own up to it. Take your punishment and get on with life. Somehow I don’t think he was preaching to me about murder though. 

 

“Oh yeah, story time.” The pixie said excitedly rubbing her hands together.

 

“I killed my husband and his mistress.”

 

“Well that’s cliché.” The blonde said dryly.

 

“It was messy.”

 

“I like messy. I’m very good at messy.” Alice said. I think this one is touched in the head as my grandmother would say.

 

I looked over at the blond, she looked familiar. I know I have seen her somewhere before. “What’s your name?” I asked.

 

“Rosalie Hale.”

 

“Oh my, I remember you.” She was Southern royalty. She had a long list behind her name: UMS Wright graduate and valedictorian, Azalea Trail Maid, Camellia Ball debutant, and Mardi Gras queen. Rosalie Hale was the epitome of southern class and gentility. She was also the southern belle who got even with her rapist, the newspapers loved her. The court system however, did not.

 

“I’m not that easy to forget.” She smiled bitterly. 

 

No Rosalie Hale gripped the public’s attention when she was allegedly gang raped by her fiancé and three other guys. They were acquitted because of a technicality and a very crafty lawyer. 

 

A year after the trial the men started disappearing and the bodies were not found. The only reason the lady standing before me now was in prison was because she went after her late fiancé’s lawyer and his family. 

 

They found her in his hunting cabin in the final stages of dismembering Emmett McCarty. She was caught red handed, literally. The lawyer’s wife and daughter lived but would tote physical and mental scars for life.

 

“Wow, I followed that trial on the news. Honestly they needed jail time. You could tell by their smug attitudes that they did it.”

 

“They paid for their crimes in full.”

 

I leaned forward, “What did you do?” She gave me a look like I was stupid for asking. “Look, if I tell you my story will you tell me yours?”

 

“I want to play too!” Alice said with a pout. I looked at her; she was bouncing in her seat. Alice was a very strange random sort of person. Like a cute version of the weird guy Zach Galifianakis played so well from the Hangover movies. Scary smart and bat shit crazy. 

 

“Ok, Alice you can play. But first let me introduce myself. My name is Isabella Cullen and I am here for killing my husband and his tart.”

 

“She couldn’t have been a tart. Meat dishes are savories. Fruit dishes are tarts.” I looked at her and she was serious. “Was she the fruity type?” She questioned in all seriousness.

 

You know there are such things as meat tarts but it might be best not to argue the point with this one so I say, “She was a back stabbing bitch. I guess the vultures could have thought of her as a savory though.”

 

She shakes her head. “Then you cannot call her a tart. We will come up with something later but while you are thinking of that I can tell you about me.”

 

**** 

 

ALICE’S STORY

“I shot a man in Reno just to watch him die.”   
― Johnny Cash

 

Well, when Monday comes she’s Tuesday,  
When Tuesday comes she’s Wednesday,  
Into another day again  
Her personality unwinds  
Just like a ball of twine  
On a spool that never ends  
Just when I think I know her well  
Her emotions reveal,  
She’s not the person that  
I thought I knew  
She’s a complicated lady, so color my baby moody blue,

 

Oh, moody blue,  
Tell me who I’m talking to  
You’re like the night and day  
And it’s hard to say  
Which one is you.

“Moody Blue” - Elvis

 

“My name is Mary Alice Brandon and I stopped counting at twenty.” There is a twinkle in her eye as she gives me the count. Santa would be jealous. 

 

“I thought women stopped counting at thirty.” I replied.

 

“She isn’t talking about her age nitwit.” Rose quipped and then gave me a haughty smirk. “Oh, I keep forgetting you admitted to everything like a dumb ass.” She said and rolled her eyes.

 

I looked at the tiny woman girl. She can’t be over the age of twenty two. “You killed over twenty?” I squeak out the question and wonder what she could do with a spork from the cafeteria if the mood hit her. 

 

“Let’s just say around forty plus or minus.”

 

“Why?”

 

“Long story but it starts in the foster home. Everything crazy starts in foster homes don’t you know?”

 

“I’d never guess,” Rosalie said dryly.

 

“If you are going to get all huffy.” Sounds like she may be getting her feelings hurt. Death by spork or keep the small serial killer happy? Personally, I want to live. 

 

“There were three of us in the last foster home. Two boys and me, we were all thirteen.

 

Three days later and we are only on number twenty nine. Nail gun. How the hell she came up with some of this shit I don’t know. Anything, I mean, anything could and had set her off at one time or another. 

 

Number twenty nine smarted off to the cashier at a fast food restaurant while she was standing behind him and she took offence with his attitude. She used a nail gun on him at a construction site. It seems she was hooked on the Dexter TV show at the time and she used that for inspiration. See folks, we are breeding a generation of serial killers with the shit on TV numbing them to the right or wrong of violence. And let’s not go into the issue of prime time sex, you can see that on the news when the local thirteen year old gets caught orally servicing the boys on the back of the bus. Lament our lost youth and count the dollars, you f*****s. 

 

“And that is when I unknowingly caught the attention of one Jasper Hale. Yum, he was a tall, delicious, Texas Ranger.” That brought me back from my inner soap box. Oh, he was the guy she was convicted for, her last murder. Damn, what number are we on now, I had tuned out. 

 

“He was investigating the murder of the college kids that I put in the dryers at the off campus laundry.” Hmmm, yep, missed that one and there isn’t any way in hell I’m asking her to repeat it. I’m glad she isn’t my bunkmate. It would be like rooming with Dahmer and Hannibal Lecter. Shut your eyes for a nap and they would flip for who took your kidneys and liver. Major arguments would break out over what to serve with the roast made from your rump. Wine or beer, it would depend on which personality she would be channeling at the moment.

 

“A business opposite of the laundry had a camera and it caught just a smidgen of me and that set him off on the hunt. After that he started piecing little things together from other murders. He found links to me in Fort Lauderdale, you remember the baseball bat guy?” I must have blanked out on him too but I nod an affirmative hoping she will hurry up and finish. “I left a little DNA at that fish camp on Big Creek Lake. You remember the guys I used for bait? Damn what a catch I made that day.” 

 

I will never eat fried catfish again. Well no worries, it’s not something they serve in prison anyway but if I did have the choice, ugh, hell no. You know those things are bottom feeders?

 

“Hey I put four in that lake myself.” Rosalie pops out. Bloody small world isn’t it!

 

“Yes, that’s a good location to hide a body that is if you know how to keep it down.” 

 

“Floaters were my least favorite autopsy.” I mumble and they both look at me in disgust. “What, you didn’t ever think of the poor schmucks who had to tidy up after your dirty work?” Oh shit, that comment put me on the wrong team. Quick fix it! “Wonder what my colleagues thought of my mess?” They smile, wow, so easy to flip that coin.

 

“Well, back to my story. I was in Galveston in a little diner when this handsome Texan walked in. Oh he was fine, so fine, dressed in a button down, painted on jeans and tan boots. He walked all the way to the back of the diner where I was and slid into my booth. He said to me “little Miss, I’ve been dreaming about you all my life.” Oh that Texas drawl just melted my butter and my crotch took over then and I completely lost it.”

 

“He took off that hat and oh his hair was spun gold, and his eyes, blue diamonds. It was like a tractor beam from a Star Trek episode pulling me in. No man had ever got under my skin. We talked for hours and when it was time for me to go he asked me to his place. He was the only man that I didn’t have the urge to murder. Funny how I ended up doing it anyway, maybe we were meant to be in another life. 

 

“I walked into his place and yeah, I spent the night and we did it all. But the next morning while he was taking a shower I reached into a drawer to get a shirt and found his badge. I shot him in the shower. His neighbor was another ranger and we had a little shoot out. I was hit and after a stint in the hospital I came to live here. 

 

***

 

ROSE’ STORY

 

“The first thing we do, let's kill all the lawyers.”   
― William Shakespeare, King Henry VI, Part 2

 

I'm bitter and I'm twisted  
I haven't slept in days  
I'm lonely and I'm angry  
I can't make it go away  
I'm like a bomb that's ticking; I got voices in my head  
I got a doll with needles in, wishing you were dead  
I'll get you back somehow, that's what I'm gonna do  
I'll get you back somehow, your nightmare coming true  
It's coming true

You better look behind you  
'Cause there I'm gonna be  
I'll be standing in the shadows  
With who I used to be  
He's slightly schizophrenic  
Me and me and me and me agree  
That you are gonna pay  
For what you did to me

Megadeath – I'll Get Even

 

Rose sits with us at the picnic table but if you look into her eyes closely she is somewhere else. A little farther south I think. When she starts to speak it’s in a monotone voice. 

“The day the judge threw out my case was worse than the day of the crime. Those smug bastards stood around laughing and clapping each other on the back, while I stood there on the courthouse steps watching. You have no idea how violated I felt. I had been gang raped once and then again in a court house. The only difference this time was it was a judge and jury telling me how good it was. ‘Like it baby,” voices from the night of the rape mixed with the smug voice of Emmett McCarty.”

 

“I was to be married in the first week of April. It was to be a garden wedding timed perfectly with the peak of the azaleas blooming. I think the dress is probably still in my closet at my parents’ home. I had an apartment but all the wedding paraphernalia was to be housed there.”

 

“Oh dad was so proud; his useless daughter had snagged the big one, the mayor’s son. That was his attitude you know, girls are useless. We are only here to breed their heirs, bastard.” She said in a unfeeling monotone. “I wanted to make daddy proud, hell I was more than just proud myself, and my head was up high. My position in society was going to go way up. People would beg for invitations to my parties. Our future was limitless. He one day could be mayor like his father or even the governor if I could push him in that direction. I wanted it all and you know I would have made a wonderful governor’s wife.”

 

Alice snorted then giggled. “Sorry Rose, I’m just picturing a prison orange suite dress.”

 

Rose arched an eyebrow and continued. “I’m not going to discuss the rape or how they got away with it. I just put it into my head that day on the courthouse steps that they were going to pay.”

 

“Royce, my fiancé and his three asshole buddies were on my shit list, but his lawyer Emmett McCarty was the one I wanted to pay most of all. That day after the trial I was getting in my car and damn if we weren’t parked next to each other. He had the nerve to look over at me and say ‘Look, it’s just business. You just need to get over it and live your life.’ The nerve of that asshole, he was smiling!”

 

“So that day I started planning my revenge. Marcus was first. He didn’t participate in the rape, but he didn’t do anything either. He stood there and watched the whole thing happen. You know he was hard?”

 

Alice leaned forward ready for the details. She looked hungry, eager for the kill.

 

“I made my new home at a friend’s fish camp on Big Creek Lake. He was in Alaska for the summer so I was all clear. The camp was two miles off the main road by jeep if it hadn’t rained and it was hidden from the main lake in a slough so I had privacy. I told my parents I was going to Atlanta to stay with a friend and I left town.”

 

My friend was a fishing fool. He bass fished as a sport but he ran trot lines for catfish to make a little cash on the side. He would sell the fish to the fish houses locally so he had to have a way to hold the fish till he got enough to sell. He kept steel holding pins in the shallow water of the slough for his catfish. They were made of five foot square heavy gage steel frames with a heavy wire mesh to keep the fish. He had four on the shore ready for my use. 

 

Big Creek Lake is a manmade lake that was formed by the damming of Big Creek, a tributary of the Escatawpa River in southwest Alabama. According to my grandfather they didn’t think the thing would fill as fast as it did. They barely had time to move the old school and bodies from a small cemetery before it was full. It is full of stumps and debris and has some interesting features, one of which is what we locals call the gully. It’s the deepest place in the lake. That was my dumping site.

 

“I just shot Marcus. I made sure to weight the cage down and I put him in the gully. He wasn’t worth my time but he was on my list so I gave him as much time as he was worth. Aro and Caius, I used a date rape drug to get them where I wanted and had the cages sitting on the front of the bass boat ready to go. I put each of them in a cage and waited till they were awake to push them over. I drowned both of them.”

 

“Royce, I saved him for last. There was a small work shed at the camp. It has almost all the tools you could use most of which I had no clue what to do with. The tools that weren’t familiar to me I researched online till I found which one had the most amusing possibilities. I strapped Royce down and waited for him to wake up. I didn’t take a lot of time with him when he came to but it was very cathartic.”

 

By now Alice was bouncing in her seat with excitement. “What did you do, what did you do?” she squealed.

 

“I used a disk sander to sand his penis and balls off. There was a lot of blood and a lot of screaming.”

 

“Fine grit or rough?” Alice asked and they both watched Bella gag at the question. “I assume he got a bath too.”

 

Rose nodded yes then continued with her tale. “By then the cops were looking for Royce and his cronies and I was the main suspect in their disappearance. My parents had told them I was in Atlanta but when that was looked into no evidence was found that I had ever been there. I had hoped that I could get away with a few more days but it didn’t work out. That meant that Emmett was nervous and that made it hard to get him.

 

What I had to do still to this day doesn’t sit well with me. So before I tell you the end to my story no small kids were harmed, physically. Mentally, she may have a few issues later on in life. 

 

“Oh Rose, you didn’t.” Bella said quietly.

 

“It was the only way I could get him. I kidnapped her from her yard. Mommy wasn’t watching her very well while she was playing. I had her on the phone with daddy setting up a playdate by the time we hit the main route. Back at the fish camp I gave her some juice laced with Benadryl and that knocked her out for a while. I picked up daddy and made him drink a little juice I prepared for him with a ruffie in it. Let me just say that that asshole was huge and I got a work out getting him out of the jeep and into the shop.”

 

“What about the girl?” Bella asked concerned for the child.

 

“While daddy was out and tied up I took her to a playground that was near her house and let her loose. Someone there found her and called her mom. “

 

“Screw the kid, get back to the fun stuff.” Alice said squirming impatiently.

 

“Good grief, ok. Well I had daddy tied up like I said. He had be awake about thirty minutes when I got back. First thing he asked is where was is his girl.”

 

“Where’s my daughter you bitch?”

 

I smile and get ready to act my way to hell. “Well she is probably on the way to the docks Emmett.”

 

“What the fuck did you do with Jessica, Rose?”

 

I smiled gleefully at him. “Well I have to fund my get away somehow so little Jessica came in handy in a time of need. She will be up for bids in about a week. I expect she will go at a high price with those pretty big blue eyes and all that hair.” I rub salt in his wounds with every sentence. “Emmett, it’s just business, a very lucrative one. Your wife will get over you and Jessica. She will have more kids with the next guy she marries.”

 

“You Bitch!”

 

“Do you think the man that breaks her in,” I pause and watch him struggle with his bonds for a moment, “Do you think he will share her with his buddies like Royce did me?”

 

“It went down south from there, he was quite crazy in the end. Begging for me to save his daughter. I think he finally knew by that time what he and Royce had done to me. I used my sander on his feet, beautiful. If he had lived he never would have walked again.”

 

“You killed him?” Bella asked clearing her throat.

 

“You betcha, and he died thinking his daughter was sold into the skin trade. I think it fit his crime.”

 

***

 

BELLA’S STORY

 

Try to avoid getting involved with somebody who's gonna need killing before it's over. It may seem to you that that narrows the field somewhat but be diligent. ”   
― Jill Conner Browne, The Sweet Potato Queens' Book of Love

 

Taken in, taken in again  
Wrapped around the finger of some fair-weather friend  
Caught up in the promises, left out in the end  
No pride, taken for a ride  
You say I'm the only one when I look in your eyes  
I want to believe you but you know how to lie

 

And if you say you understand I don't believe it  
And when you reach out for my hand I don't believe it  
And if you say you take the blame I don't believe it  
And if say that nothing's changed I don't believe it, don't believe it

 

Taken in, taken in again  
Someone saw me coming, a fool without a friend  
There's one born every minute and you're looking at him

 

“Taken In”-Mike and the Mechanics

 

In real life I was a Doctor like my husband. But we were on opposite ends of the patient spectrum. He was the hot shot plastic surgeon and I worked for the medical examiner’s office. To our friends it was cool but to others it was sort of a joke. His office was high in the Medical Center offices, a corner office with lots of light. My office was the morgue. There was no corner office just a black doorway with Morgue in stark black letters above it and the smell of death. 

 

“But my hours were regular which was what I wanted. I think in the beginning it was the move to the country. I had begged to get out of the city and he finally gave in. We kept an apartment not far from the hospital though for when something special was going on in town or he had to pull a late shift. We had talked of starting a family and I had gone off the pills. I wanted to nest and I had started turning the spare room into a future nursery. I spent hours going over paint samples. It had to be perfect.

 

“Then things started to get strange. His hours were random at best and then they just went off the chart. He would stay more at the apartment. We used to go to conferences together, now he was going with a group of men at our hospital. It was a ‘boys’ trip he said. 

 

“The men covered for each other. But the nurse’s talk, if you want to know something about a hospital talk to the nurses, the doctors get the big bucks but they would just be lost without their nurses. My best friend Angela is a nurse and she was transferred to the surgery wing. Edward knew of her but the others didn’t and things slipped out.

 

“He left on a Thursday for a weekend conference in Atlanta and Angela stopped by that night and told me what was really going on. Edward was hooking up with a hot young resident and the only conference that weekend was at her house. I thanked Angela and asked her to leave, told her that I had a lot to think about and I needed to think alone. She begged me not to do something stupid and I of course promised that I wouldn’t. She left regretfully. 

 

I made a quick phone call to the HR department with an excuse that I was working on one of her patients and it looked like doctor error and that easily got me the young residents address.

 

“I planned to confront them, that’s all, but it went so wrong. I had dad’s service revolver that he gave me for when Edward went out of town. I put it in my bag, I wasn’t planning on using it, wasn’t even planning on anyone knowing it was there. But when I drove by her house his car was in the drive way. I turned the car around drove past the home again and then parked on the road out of site of the house. 

 

“I got out of the car and walked to the house, with the purse on my shoulder. Its habit you know, you get out of car and grab your purse, lock the car and throw the keys in the purse. It was a cool October night; a breeze was blowing in the trees. It was so clear; I remember the stars were so bright. I dream of those stars sometimes now and they all look like small novas, something out of a Van Gogh picture.

 

Her bedroom window was open, wispy filmy curtains blowing into the room from the breeze. Candles flickered all around the room and they were there on the big four poster bed, he was going down on her and I watched my husband get her off. Then a short while later I watched him fuck her.” I snorted bitterly. “I stood there and watched it all. Was I in shock, I guess. But you know it was always like I was waiting for the blow, for him to leave and here it was.”

 

Alice patted my hand, “I wish I could have been there with you Bella. I could have helped you give them what they deserved.”

 

I snorted, “Well, sweetie, I think I did it all on my own.”

 

I don’t to this day know how I ended up in the house. The cops said I went through the window that was open. They must have gone for a snack in the kitchen. The oldest blood was located in there. 

 

I shot Tanya in the stomach when she walked back into the bedroom she died three hours before the cops showed up two days later. I let her suffer and watch what I did to Edward. See I shot him in the knee, got him on the bed and tied him up, stopped the bleeding and tortured him for two days.” I bit my bottom lip and let my eyes roam over stained gray institution walls. 

 

“Angela reported us all missing two days later. The police came and I heard them and threw down my toys. They sounded like a troop of elephants tearing their way in. The fool heard them and had such hope in his eyes. He thought he was saved so I stabbed Edward in the femoral, and watched the life drain out of him. He was so very frightened. It’s worse for doctors you know. We are the Gods of life and death and we just can’t accept such a mundane fate.” 

 

“So here I am. I don’t know if I should be thankful I got life or wish I got death. Am I sorry? I was when my mother-in-law spoke at the sentencing hearing. I was sorry I broke her heart. Now, I have all the time in the world to think about it and the only thing I can think of is the other things I could have done. “ 

 

“Ok, What now?” Rose asks us.

 

“What do you mean, Rose?” Bella asked, her head resting on her right hand. 

 

“Ever see the Disney movie Jungle Book?” Alice asked in a dreamy voice. Rose and Bella just turned toward her. 

 

“Alice, why do you want to know if we have seen the Jungle Book?” Both knew by now to expect something odd as a reply to their question and they weren’t disappointed.

 

“Vultures.” That raised eyebrows. They held their questions waiting for the mini nut case to elaborate. “Near the end of the movie is a group of vultures gathered in a tree and all they are asking is what to do now.”

 

“Ahh,” Bella said, “I remember! What cha wanna do, no what cha wanna do?”

 

“Yep, that’s it. Although we are too hot for vultures, we are more of the hawk variety.”

 

“Focus Alice,” Rose said. 

 

“Oh, ok, sorry to deviate. What I’m saying is lets Shawshank this place.”

 

“How the hell do you get Shawshank Redemption from vultures in a Disney movie Alice?” Rose asked baffled at her sting of logic. 

 

“Darlin,” she said channeling her former victim Jasper, “There are a few of us in here, it just depends on who wants to talk first.” She then looked up at me with a Hannibal Lecter grin, and asked in that cultured Anthony Hopkins voice, “So Shawshank?” 

 

“Is there a resort for murderesses somewhere down past the border Alice?” Bella asked.

 

“Not yet but it will be magnificent.”

**Author's Note:**

> Nancy – this one is for you. Next time I will do a romantic one. You remember that little chat we had discussing how we could just kill our lovable hubbies sometimes, well honey I almost did for real! It’s a true story folks, my life is a sitcom. It’s my entire fault, and I blame it on crusty winter elbows. You know us girls are always looking for those little concoctions that are simple and promise soft hands, blemish free skin, etc. Well I was scanning the internet trying to find a solution for my elbows which are in horrible shape. The day before I had come across a new recipe and it was simple so I wanted to try it out. You take a cup of salt put it into a bowl and add in half a bottle of baby oil. Get yourself a hot shower going and scrub yourself all over till your pink then wash it all off under the hot spray. You will come out squeaky pink and soft as a baby’s butt, smelling like one too.
> 
>  
> 
> So Friday afternoon I put this concoction together and eagerly hopped into the shower to try it out. It worked so well I had to call my sister and tell her all about it. I had meant to clean out the tub before the hubby hopped in but got distracted by the call. It was such a good chat that I didn’t pay any attention to the hubby walking by heading toward the shower. I remember hearing a noise and it sounded like thunder and I asked my sister if a thunder cloud was coming up. She said no so we got off the phone and I went and looked for what made the noise.
> 
>  
> 
> Hubby was lying in the floor of the shower legs strait up against the wall, groaning. The shower curtain had fallen and was half in and out of the tub and water was going everywhere. I asked if he was ok and he said he was thinking about it and it might take a while. I turned off the shower and asked what happened and he said that he got in and just flipped. He was not happy and I have a lot of making up to do, but I’m glowing, have soft elbows, and smell like a baby’s butt; a clean powdered one.
> 
> IF YOU USE THE SALT/BABY OIL RECIPE – CLEAN THE SHOWER ASAP!!!! I DO NOT TAKE RESPONSIBILITY FOR ANY ACCIDENTS THAT MAY HAPPEN IF YOU DON’T!


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